Super cool surfer dude Michael. He picked it up in no time.
Ditto Dylan.
So did the girls but I didn't get pictures. Love this one of Avery.
November 27, 2007
Two days have passed since the zip-lining adventure and we are now on the plane bound for Dallas, with the Costa Rica experience about to be stored in our memory bank with the many other lovely vacations we have been fortunate enough to enjoy.
I haven’t contributed to this chronicle for a couple of days because I was busy soaking up the local atmosphere in the knowledge that we would soon be wrapping it up. Time seems to move slowly for the first half of any journey, but then flies by for the second. So it was with this.
Mark and family had been picked up about 1:00 on Sunday to fly “Nature Air” back to San Jose where they were spending the night at the same hotel we stayed in on the way, with a flight home on Monday. We had debated whether to try to change our plans and fly rather than drive, and then we got an email from them that evening saying the flight was awesome, the plane stable and that we should do the same. But alas, we had waffled too long and the only openings for seven were on the 6:30 AM flight this morning. So we decided to go back by van as originally arranged. It wasn’t so bad—about three hours door to door and then a lovely airport lunch at Schlotsky’s, what could be better.
I mentioned in the previous blog that we had rented a car and had planned to drive to Domenical the day after Mark et al left. With that planned, we pretty much stayed in the rest of Sunday, lounging by the pool and searching for monkeys.
It’s a funny thing about the monkeys. While other animals usually shy away from humans and are very difficult to spot, the monkeys act like they are just as interested in us as we are in them. Mostly they travel in “troops” (which I have been informed that I spelled wrong on previous blogs—“troupes” are traveling actors), and as they are passing by it almost seems as if they are saying to each other, “Hey guys, look, there are some of those odd-looking humans jumping up and down and making those strange squealing noises. Let’s go check them out.” Then they come over and eye us up and down, cautiously at first lest we bite, and then more boldly, when they decide we mean them no harm and might even be the source of something good to eat. First one or two will get up on the roof of the house and peer down at us as if they are scouting for the others, then a few will appear in the trees and finally the braver ones will come right up to the pool deck and stare at us from the railing. We are the paparazzi, snapping pictures like mad, and they are stars, looking bored and annoyed by the trappings of fame. Finally, they wander off through the trees and all you can see is the rustle of the branches as they trapeze their way to their next diversion.
Oh how tempting it was to feed them thus buying their love for longer periods, but we were told not to (in fact, given ten good reasons not to in the house book) so we obeyed the rules and never proffered so much as a banana slice when it was just us. Only Mariela and Gilbert would offer a banana or two if the monks showed up when they were there. I guess the rules don’t apply to the locals. But luckily, we did see them I think every day so we are not complaining.
Yesterday, the rental car was due to be delivered at 9 AM, we were to drive to Domenical, meet with Matteas the realtor and see a couple of properties. Then we were going to meet Todd and Lezlie for lunch at a French (of all things) restaurant. It all sounded quite civilized and lovely. But it was not to be. The rental car didn’t show up at 9:00, at 9:20 David called Melissa, the manager, who called them and was told that the other people didn’t get the car back on time and it would be 11:00 before they could come. At 11:00, they weren’t there and through another phone call we found that they had to get a car somewhere else because the first story was not accurate and the other car had not been returned at all. This evidently is a rental car company with only one car to be rented.
A little after 11:30, the car arrives and by now David and Kelly are mad and determined not to pay the full $95 but the guy would only knock $10 off the fee. The real issue though was one of time. David wanted to be back before dark which occurs at 5:30 and since it is at least an hour and a half away, we would have very little time to be there.
We were disappointed but we’re over it. Instead, we changed clothes and went to the beach and had lunch in the same restaurant where I had had the mahi mahi the first day. And a guitarist with bad teeth sang Malaguena su Las Rosas to me and me alone.
Tom and I are not beach people any more although we loved it when we were younger, but after lunch yesterday we sat on beach chairs under umbrellas and watched the passing scene. There are dogs on the beach who live there, apparently having no desire to be adopted by their adoring fans. One beach dog, which Kelly named Beethoven, is a true wonder of the world. He surfs and plays soccer! There is a surfing dude named Ariel whom all of us girls were lusting after (bronzed sculptured bod, curly shoulder length hair, unbelievable surfer dude moves) who takes the dog out with him and then rides the surf with the dog sitting on the front as cool as can be. David has a picture of the dude riding the board while standing on his head with the dog perched in front as if watching out for sharks. I am not kidding! The dude, not the dog, also surfed with two boards at a time, though not very successfully. He'll master it though, I'll bet.
Then there was a soccer game on the beach. Soccer must be huge in Costa Rica, because we saw a lot of it being played with great skill. But the best game was between another cute young Tico (I forgot to tell you that Costa Ricans are known as Ticos) and Beethoven the beach dog. Tico would throw the ball as hard as he could and Beethoven would run like crazy down the beach, pick up the ball with his teeth and bring it back. Then Tico would literally play soccer by kicking the ball with his feet while Beethoven would try to get the ball away from him.
Later: my computer ran out of juice after the above and now I sit in my own bedroom getting ready to post this. Tomorrow I will (I hope) post some pictures and then bid a fond adios to Costa Rica--until next time, which I am sure will come.
Pura Vida! As the Ticos say.
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